Quest A Hunting We Will Go

[Razkar]

Some things did not require words or verbage, and that moment was one of them. Razkar and Riaris had been given their orders, their supplies and their objectives. They knew of each other, respected the other's abilities. They weren't friends, but they would be able enough partners. So what else was there to say?

Razkar swung a leg over his mount and righted himself in the saddle. Riaris waited just long enough for him to do so and then kicked his heels into his tall mount's flanks, sending it jerking forwards. Razkar watched the eager Akalak begin to trot and spurred his own horse onward.

Cobbles and streets and curious faces passed them in a blur, but their eyes were fixed forwards, towards the next turn, the next street, until finally, the City Gates appeared before them. The Akalaks on guard actually straightened in something like recognition, but neither the Myrian not the purple Akalak returned it.

They had other things on their mind.

The marble and white stone of Riverfall fell away behind them, their mounts huffing and whinnying, hooves pounding the ground under them. They were not heading for the caravan road, though; they were riding south, towards the beginning of the circular route marked on their maps. Razkar felt the cold wind slap his face and was grateful he wore pretty much all his clothes today. His breeches bumped and jumped on the galloping animal, but then they slowed into a steady trot...

Just as they reached the edge of the Sea of Grass.

No point wearing out the horses after all. Galloping for hours on end sounded very heroic and dramatic in the lores, but practically speaking, keeping a steady trot was better, for the lower body of the rider and the entire body of the horse. Riaris slowed his steed and Razkar mirrored him. The hulking Akalak silently consulted his map, and again, Razkar waited.

This was his Sea more than it was Razkar's. He would have hunted in it since he was a boy, and once he found his heading, he made a clicking sound with his teeth and tongue and his horse sauntered into the talls grass.

Behind him, Razkar gripped his horse's reins with his left hand, and let his right fall to where his short bow was resting in the saddle. A saddle bag was serving as a scabbard for it, making it easier to get to than across his back. Rakar knew from painful, frustrating experience that it would be their first line of defense against the wing'd monsters they would find.

But for now, the skies were clear. Above grass that was nearly taller than Riaris in his saddle, the sky was impossibly bright blue, cloudless and unspoiled. Wind whipped and whistled through the foliage, sending great swathes of it dancing with each gust.

Razkar kept his peace and his eyes open, ears alert. They were on duty now, and they had many hours of riding ahead before they would make camp. AS they rode, his lips moved in a silent prayer to a terrible, awful figure sitting on her skull throne thousands of miles away.

Dira guide my hand... and Myri my steel...

[Riaris Dovukalis]

Riaris stared at Onithet as he trotted off into the distance. It was obvious the young naive Akalak hadn't realized that Riaris didn't know a thing about riding a horse. But still he would try, a challenge was a challenge and he would except this one along with any other that they might encounter on their trip into the wilds. He sighed, a low brooding sound slipping from between his lips. A final glance towards the Myrian, and Riaris tightly grasped the hood of the saddle and attempted to pull himself up. It wasn't an easy thing to do, and it seemed that the horse was a bit wary of him as he was of it.

He squeezed the saddle tighter, twisting his hips as he attempted to throw his leg up and over the back of the horse. It was awkward, standing there with one leg caught on the back of the horse and the other still planted on the ground. But he would not allow himself to look foolish in front of the Myrian and roughly pulled himself up the rest of the way to sit on the horse's back. Luckily for him, it seemed that the mount was well trained, and used to strangers mounting it, and gave him very little trouble. Once he was on and upright, the Akalak spurred his mount into a very slow trot. It might have looked odd to those he pasted, as if he was in no hurry to get to his destination, but he didn't have a choice.

It was a very different feeling to ride a horse and it made him wary to say the least. He watched the animal as much as he did the road ahead, paying attention, listening and feeling for any subtle movements that the creature might be irritated or frightened. The last thing he needed was for the animal to suddenly buck up and toss him off. It was all new to him, and as he glanced to the Myrian riding along side, he could tell that it was going to be a long day.

The horse started to quicken it's pace soon after, though nothing to fast as to cause the Akalak atop him to fall out or attempt to slow it down. Riaris stared at the people as they rode past them, all the while maintaining his composer and trying not to look like it was his first time on a horse. Soon they left the city and a gentle squeeze to the horse's hips sent the mount into a gallop. It was fast, more so than he had expected which caused him to lean forward and hold tightly to whatever he could get his hands on.

Riaris grunted, squinting his eyes against the flash of cold wind that they race through. It was a long ride, and one that was probably even longer in his mind, due to the fact that he wanted off the mount. Once they made it to the sea of grass and slowed finally. Riaris glanced about the area. He knew it well enough but the direction they were to take wasn't as easy to find. Still, there was no need to hurry, and they wouldn't reach their destination in one day. For the moment, the most important thing was covering more ground and then finding a good place to camp for the night.

"There is still plenty of daylight..we should press on, and we can make camp once the light begins to fade."

[Razkar]

The sun was past its peak but the day was still only half through. They still had... maybe six bells before it vanished completely.

Razkar nodded in the saddle, hand reach back absently to pet the flapping homing pigeon. It was surprisingly quiet in its tiny wooden prison cell, dangling from the back of the saddle, but now and again it would flap feebly and coo as if asking a question. When it did Razkar would reach back and get it a quick tickle.

He didn't want it upset, and he didn't want it making too much noise, either.

"Good idea."

That was all the discussion needed, and they trotted onward through the Sea of Grass. Sounds rather plain, doesn't it? But that's all they did. The sheer size of the Sea of Grass isn't really its problem; it's the faceless nature of the grasslands. They rode for bells, for miles and miles and there was nothing but waving stalks unto the horizon and the shining walls of Riverfall. And even the latter was beginning to dip... just like the sun.

The Akalak and the Myrian rode and rode but there was nothing to see or to kill. Their ears were pricked like hunting dogs, but there was nothing. No screeches or the whump of sinewy wings. No nkightmarish creatures making their way through the skies...

Razkar cursed softly to himself, looking up at the setting sun as it started to kiss the top of the grass. Of course they wouldn't. Bright light was anathema to Zith, he learned that the previous season. So catching them on the move during this stunning brightness? Unlikely.

Rustling to their right and strong hands grasped weapons... only for a couple of deer to go jumping by. Razkar's face twisted into a grimace. Such a waste, but they could not waste the time.

"This place looks good."

He steered the horse a little to the left and found a small clearing in the eight-foot-tall grass. Even a novice hunter could see the grasses had been pressed down by deer, lions, wolves or even glassbeaks, but they were long-gone. No droppings or wet patches, and new grass was already coming up out the ground. In a week or so, the relentless vegetation would overtake it once again and obliterate the clearing.

But for tonight, it would suffice.

"You make tents." He said bluntly, already swinging from his horses, shadows growing longer as the sun died by inches. "I make fire and deal horses."

[Riaris Dovukalis]

Riaris glanced around once more, taking in the scene and their surroundings. It was a nice day out, birds sings, deer roaming and even rabbits scampering about. There were no dangers near-by, no winged beast come to feast on them. The violet Akalak had figured as much would be the case. In Riverfall the word danger was common, and held little more than a tease of threats. There was always the lure of the big bad coming into the city, but with most of the people therein, being about to handle themselves and help to kill off whatever it was that attacked, nothing seemed too serious.

Even so, this wasn't Riverfall, it was the wilds beyond. A place that he knew of, and a place where he had fought glassbreaks and taken out Zith. But there were no horrors to be found as of yet, and even when night fell it wasn't likely to pose trouble for them. Riaris clicked his heels and started off again. If at all possible he'd like to get as close as possible while they still had daylight. He knew of the forest, but he wasn't a true hunter as of yet and would rather not waist his time needlessly in the forest.

He gave another glance towards the Myrian. He was the silent type, though Riaris didn't mind this, he was more interested in his combat skills. The man had moved easily around the mat in the dojo, but the Akalak had to wonder if he could move as easily in the forest when facing off against flying Zith. He had said that he wanted to face them, but Riaris wondered if he had done so before? And if so, how many had he killed? He imagined that it would come up in conversation once they actually had one. If not that was fine as well, but he wasn't going to allow himself to be task with the burden of saving this man if he got in over his head.

The ride was long, and just as he had suspected there was no danger to be found. Just deer and rabbits among other creatures too shy to step out into the opening. Riaris turned to face the Myrian when he spoke up and noticed him wandering off. He turned his own horse then and trotted along. The area ahead looked as good a spot as any to camp for the night. He slowly slipped off the horse, hoping not to spook it before he could get his feet on the ground. Once he was down, he grinned and lightly patted the horse's back.

Turning away from the horse, he looked towards the Myrian who had started to bark out orders. Riaris arched a brow and watched the man as he moved about. "I'll help you with your tent if you can't figure it out for yourself, but don't expect me to do it for you." he spoke plainly and turned back around to remove the camping supplies from the horse and arrange them on the ground, where he could began setting up the tent.

[Razkar]

"I'll help you with your tent if you can't figure it out for yourself, but don't expect me to do it for you."

Razkar rolled his eyes at the Akalak's gruff words, but did not comment on them. He was a barbarian, for one thing, and he didn't expect much from them. For another, he was an Akalak, and arrogant entitlement seemed to be their natural state of mind.

Regardless, he thought pragmatically, unfastening his tent from the laden saddle and getting to work, there's still work to be done, and not much sun to do it in.

The problem was the lack of trees or bushes to tie their horses to, but Razkar knew he had to make do. The weather was in their favor, too: the horses would not idly wander in the Sea of Grass anyway, but even less so with the temperature falling so quickly. He spent five chimes softly coaxing the horse in his own tongue before it finally settled onto the ground, snuffling for the feed bag he held just out of reach.

"Good boy." Razkar whispered, setting the bag over the horse's head as it munched contentedly. "Stay put. Believe me, you don't want to go exploring..."

The tent was the work of a few moments. Razkar had been living in tents for years, and the Akalak-supplied one was of a pretty simple design. By the time he'd finished, the sun was nearly set, and they still had to make the-

-flint clicked behind him and he turned to see Riaris lighting the fire. Not a large one, though; the Akalak obviously knew enough about Zith not to draw their attention. He wondered for a moment why he was bothering...

He isn't building it for you. He's building it for him. You just happen to be here, too.

Once again, Razkar shrugged, and decided that his stomach was more worthy of his concern. He rifled through the saddle bag hungrily. Oatmeal... beans... more beans... ah-ha!

The Myrian smiled as he pulled the smoked pork from the bag. Might as well eat some of it tonight; it would spoil the fastest of everything else. The Akalak was already hanging a cooking pot over the fire, but he ignored it. Instead, he skewered his meat on the end of a nearby stick and jammed it at an angle over the flames. No more than... five chimes, if he guessed right.

Razkar sat back, waiting for his pork to start sizzling, and decided to be productive in the meantime. Lit by the flames more than the sun which had nearly gone to its death, last rays desperately clinging to the sky, he drew his gladius from its sheath and ran his whetstone in steady strokes, from hilt to tip.

The air was silent save for that dry scraping. Neither of them was much of a conversationalist. Then something joined them: sizzling. His food was ready.

Black eyes flickered up and decided they'd prefer their meat a little burnt tonight. Razkar held up the gladius and ran a thumb across it... and smiled. Very nice. The blade was sheathed and the hand ax was next. The smile stayed but morphed and shifted softly when he noted the new thighbone-shaft of the weapon.

Not the only Akalak here tonight, Riaris, Razkar thought with humor as black as the darkness settling over them, marred only by the small and fierce fire.

[Riaris Dovukalis]

Once he was finished putting up the tent, the Akalak moved inside and made sure that there was enough foot room. Akalak were large by normal standards in Riverfall but Riaris is in the larger of their sizes, and he wanted to be sure that he could fit in comfortably and have enough room to move in case he needed to act suddenly. Once that was set he decided to make dinner before going to sleep.

Riaris checked his supplies and removed a portion healthy enough for his appetite, made a meal out of it and ate. The food was fare and after glancing out to see if the Myrian had run off, he stepped back into his tent and sat with his legs crossed. The Akalak closed his eyes and breathed deeply and allowing his mind to relax. He would stay like this for a while, until he felt like sleeping.

[Razkar]

Razkar noted when the Akalak poked his head out to check on him. A purple head that large was not hard to miss. But no questions were asked, either by eyes or lips, so when he retired, Razkar went back to his work without comment.

His work for the evening was nearly done. The leather harness he wore was festooned with sharpened steel now. He kept them sharp anyway, but knew enough about Zith to want to be ready for them tonight. The whetstone moved smoothly over the second lakan and by the time the fire had started to die away, it was gleaming and capable of splitting a hair.

"Good."

He sheathed it in the proper place behind his back and moved onto the more... irritating part of his evening. The Myrian grimaced and shuffled back into his tent, taking off his armor, his tunic and breeches, until he was alone in the dark with only his loincloth. But feel and by smell he found his healers kit, and it was with the latter alone he found the salve.

"Goddess," he muttered, almost choking, "Stuff is foul..."

But, as per Yakob's instructions, he applied the stinking ointment to the healing gashes on his side and leg. There was a tingle that was less stinging than it had been two days before, and despite his discomfort, he nodded in satisfaction. A couple more weeks and they'd be just another pair of war wounds.

The Myrian waited for the salve to dry, listening to the sound of the night. Barks and howls in the distance. Strange calls and warbles that could have been reptilian or avian. Finally he heaved his clothes back on, then his harness, and laid back, waiting for restless sleep to claim him.

OOCReady when you are, Trav

[Traverse]

Day 2

It was the horses that woke them. They had names back in the militia. The mare was jokingly called Patience, and had thrown more than one rider and kicked quite a few more when picking rocks out of her hooves. She didn’t like being man handled any more than most women in Riverfall, and was keen to remind any Akalak of that if they ever mistreated her or wasted her time. Thus far she didn’t seem to mind Riaris, but if this was because the moody mare actually liked him, or that she just liked the distance he kept from her, remained to be seen.

The Gelding’s name was Trikken. He was a playful fellow at heart, but when one trained a horse for war, traits like that were largely pushed down or gotten rid of in any and every way. A single ride with the dappled fellow would result in seeing a rather bland horse, but this morning Trikken was taking a lesson From Patience, snorting and pawing the ground in an eagerness to get on with the day.

It was still dark, for the warhorses knew of the schedule to be kept. A blanket of ebony that shifted shades as each chime passed, lightening imperceptibly until suddenly that deep blue seemed to glow with Syna’s warmth which would soon draw itself like a golden child’s head out of its earthen crib. It was chill and cold, but what better way to awaken than with that breath of frozen air? The wrong season for insects, and too early for most creatures, the only sound that accompanied the noises of the two warriors readying for another day of riding, was the low and mourning sound of a single dove, whose solo performance was accompanied only by the dry sound of grass whipping against itself in the cold winds.

[Razkar]

When the sun rose, so did Razkar. The idea of sleeping in was not so much unusual to him as it was completely alien. His upbringing, his adolescence, his service with the Taloba army, his career as a sellsword... sleeping until noon and then rolling your carass out into the midday sun were not tolerated or advised.

But when the first pinpricks of light pierced his tent, Razkar's dreams had slid to grey and smoke, and foggy dawn found him packing his things. The horses had whinnied and complained and hoofed their impatience loudly enough, and he would heed them.

Out of instinct born old and practiced, he checked his weapons with waking. His harness was still on, good... and a quick pat down revealed that everything was still there. He stretched stiff joints until they cracked and loosened, stepped outside... and smiled.

The sun was up but not risen, as it were. It was the sure promise of illumination, hidden under the swaying, waving grasses, but already beginning to peek out over their heads. The Myrian looked further up and saw purple clouds brightened all the more by the sun behind them. They were spread out in an uncountable army, forming ranks for a long march across the sky...

He took it in. Time destroys everything, his father once said in a melancholy moment, except the gods and death. Perhaps, one sad day, this sight would fade from his mind like a dream he would blink away and forget before his first yawn. But for that moment, he had the sunrise, and he had the promise of battle.

That was more than enough.

Razkar was bustling around folding his tent and chewing on pork jerky when there was a rustling like a bull in a pen. Ah. Riaris. He kept working steadily (and so did his jaw around the tough meat) and glanced up as the violet-skinned behemoth squeezed himself out of his tent and stretched...

Seven feet. That's got to be what his arms are.

The Akalak would be useful, he had no problem admitting that. The two warriors locked eyes and exchanged a quick, perfunctory nod. They they both wet back to dismantling their impromptu campsite, pacing and snuffling horses staring at them almost balefully, willing them to get moving and give them purpose.

[Riaris Dovukalis]

Riaris awoke early that morning, and what a morning it was. It was a wondrous morning and a complete opposite to his usual awakening. Instead of waking in the warmth of his own bed, he awoke in the cold of the outside world, surrounded by a tent that was all but useless for anything other than shade. Where he would normally wake up to a pair of golden eyes peering at him and a soothing voice beckoning him to get up, he was now hearing the whining of horses.

He arose and moved out of the tent and stood up. Riaris caught the eye of Razkar and nodded a good morning to him. He had thought to ask if the man was able to sleep, but he wondered if he'd even attempted too. There was no telling with him, and his silent nature made him all the more mysterious. Riaris wasn't one for mystery, at least not when it came to men. He was a open thinker and liked to know a man's worth, especially if they were to work together.

The Akalak shrugged off the thought and after stretching his limbs, he went about packing his bags as he was just as ready to head out as his traveling partner. It didn't take him long as he had only removed what items he needed for the night, which made the clean up easier and much faster to do.

Once he was finished and his pack and kit were all stored on the horse as it had been before, Riaris turned and glanced at Razkar, he had to wonder, since the man remained silent for the trip over, just how did he feel about it all. He had said he wanted to fight Zith, but as it was, their assignment hadn't been to join the raid, instead they were scouts, or rather they were the messengers of scouts.

"Well..." he started, breaking the silence that had gone on for over a day. "I don't know about you, but I didn't travel all this way just to run errands..If I see Zith or even hear anything that sounds like the off beat of their nasty wings I will find them and clip them at once."

He turned back to his horse then, gently touching it's back and hoping to warm it to his person as he slowly climbed onto it's back again. "For all we know those scouts could already be dead...This could all be a waste of time going this route when the battle is being fought miles away. So..what do you say Razkar, shall we..venture off?"